


A Very Frosty Cake

by annsgopal94, Sairandhri



Category: Mahabharata - Vyasa, महाभारत | Mahabharat (TV 2013)
Genre: Cake, F/M, Smut, kitchen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:44:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2214549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annsgopal94/pseuds/annsgopal94, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sairandhri/pseuds/Sairandhri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i><b><span class="big">“Doubt thou the stars are fire;</span></b></i><br/><i><b><span class="big">Doubt that the sun doth move;</span></b></i><br/><i><b><span class="big">Doubt truth to be a liar;</span></b></i><br/><i><b><span class="big">But never doubt I love.”</span></b></i><br/> </p><p>-Hamlet Act 2 Scene 2; William Shakespeare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Frosty Cake

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction, the coming together of two different writing styles. We hope you like it.
> 
> Quite a few Hindi words are used, so there's a glossary at the end. Drop us a word if we missed a word/phrase.

Karna paused when he sensed that she wasn’t listening. She stared unseeingly at the couple who were quite PG 13 in front of them. 

“Hello? Madam?” He snapped his fingers in front of her face, and got his hand promptly smacked. 

“Shhh… I’m concentrating,” she said, disgruntled. 

“On the… um...?” he asked, scared and quite frankly appalled. He had always thought Draupadi had finer tastes.

“No, silly,” she said, her voice a half whisper. She pulled him by his sleeve onto the sidewalk and behind a bush.

Karna’s eyes widened in horror. “What are you doing?” He imagined an attack on his izzat by this fragile figured girl… not that he couldn’t prevent it if he wanted to. But she was freakishly strong willed, and all eighty three kilograms of him probably wouldn’t stand a chance.

“I’m-- just--” She huffed out exasperatedly and disentangled her feet from the straps of her K2-like heels. “These heels, I swear,” she said, pulling at his collar balled in her fist.

“Why do you have to wear them if they give you so much trouble…”

Draupadi emerged with her footwear in her hands. “Not NOW Karna. I’m _suffering_ , besides, have you like, _seen_ yourself? YOU probably are the tallest structure in all of London! I need to be able to keep up with all that height.”

Karna shook his head at this blatant exaggeration. The beautiful dramebaaz had been distracted all night, and he was certain that she had just used her footwear as an excuse. 

“Alright, we’re nearly home, you should come upstairs and give your feet a break,” he said in a gentler tone.

She looked down at her feet in a moment of hesitation and then her head bounced back up, in a curiously crimson shade. 

“Okay,” she smiled. 

So they walked towards the building where Karna shared his bachelor pad with his best buddy, arm in arm.

\--------------------

“Make yourself comfortable,” Karna said as he dropped the keys in the fruit-basket on the table. He walked in unperturbed, seemingly unaware of the tangle of nerves in Draupadi’s chest.

She eyed a new addition to the dining table: a mason jar full of-- “Oh my God are these _maggots_?” Incredulity colored her voice.

Karna’s head popped out of the kitchen door. “MAGGOTS? WHAT?”

“Why do you have dead maggots on the table?!” She pointed at the glass container.

“No! That’s psyllium husk! And it’s not mine!”

Draupadi laid a hand upon her chest in an age old gesture of horror mixed with just-found relief. She had been in this house countless times before, yet today she found herself staring at her surroundings warily-- and it wasn’t because of the maggot-like psyllium husk. It was like a charge in the very air. Somehow, both Karna and she had decided that they were ready to move on from sporadic make-out sessions on his couch to “the next level”, though neither had explicitly said so. There had been a change in the way he looked at her now; every contact between their skin was akin to a mini-explosion of static. She had had a vague, tell tale feeling that the build-up of magnetic tension between them was reaching a crescendo, waiting for just the right push to spill over. 

“Hey Bhagwan! Please make me good in bed! Please make sure he doesn’t laugh at my uselessness! Sau rupai chadaoongi,” she fervently promised her maker. 

“Planning to stand in the doorway all night long? Is the psyllium husk putting you off?” Karna asked, piercing various thought bubbles sprouting in her head.

“All night? Excuse me, what makes you think I’m going to be here all night? That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?!” she asked, her modesty affronted. 

Widening his eyes, he jerked his head in a what’s-with-you gesture. “Draupadiji… sab khairiyat hai na? Upar wale kamre mein?” he asked irritatingly.

She sniffed snobbishly and walked past him to his room. “I need to rest my feet,” she declared regally.

“Okay, but ignore the laundry to the extreme right corner!” he said, following her. “I’m going to go change okay? It’s late and I reckon it’d be best if you stayed the night. Alright with that?” he asked.

Confused and mostly clueless about how to steer the evening in the direction she’d planned, Draupadi nodded yes and watched him disappear into the bathroom.

She wasn’t sure she could handle spending the entire night with Karna in her present state of unexpected, unadulterated panic. Fresh feelings that were previously unexperienced had started to colour the canvas of her fertile mind. 

“Is it definitely ON?” she asked herself, flicking on the light switch as she walked into the small room. “Do I initiate? What if I do something wrong? Oh sweet lord, _what underwear am I wearing?!_ What if Duryodhan comes back home while we’re at it? What if I make noises? What if he makes noises? How do-- ” the stream of so and such thoughts broke off at a rather painful note as her knee banged against a half-open drawer of the clothes cabinet, and she swore. Loudly.

Clumsy organization was uncharacteristic of Karna, so as she bent to close the drawer, she was surprised by the messy shirts that had been relegated to a crumpled oblivion. Curiously, she spied a pack of Durex (such a hope) hidden in a corner of the drawer. Picking the pack up gingerly between her fingers, she considered it, then stood some steps away to examine it against the bed.

“What are you doing?” Karna who had come in ( _creeped in_ more like it), probably drawn by her foul mouthed interjection, asked.

She threw the rubber pack in its place and whirled around. “FRANKIES,” she said, breathlessly. “This reminds me of Rover’s Frankies! Remember?! God, I’ve been craving them since over a week!”

He blinked.

“Condoms remind you of frankies?” he asked mildly, cocking his head to one side, an odd smile playing on his lips.

The poor girl was so bewildered at her discovery and subsequently being caught that her mouth opened and closed in continuum: a perfect imitation of Jupiter, his brother Nakul’s first goldfish. 

_Kya haalat bana di hai apni Draupads! You’re so wired up, that you can’t even lie straight faced anymore,_ he thought. 

“Hold on,” he said, taking pity on her. Propping up a few pillows against the bedpost, he motioned for her to sit down. Draupadi gratefully reclined with her legs stretched out before her. 

“I’ll go get a cushion for your feet,” he said, disappearing into the hallway.

So worried was she about the sheath foil that she forgot to spare a smile at his thoughtfulness. She didn’t know whether to appreciate her boyfriend’s forethought or simmer at his cocksure tharki ways. Could it be that he was as certain as her intuition had been about the night’s plan? 

“Here you go!” Karna said, appearing with a couple of throw cushions in his arms. He gently lifted her feet to put the cushions beneath them. Prickles of electric currents ran up her legs to set fire in her heart. She lowered her eyes; she hadn’t thought that as insignificant a touch as that would have garnered such a colossal reaction from her body.

She froze as the object of her thoughts settled down next to her feet and started examining them for blisters. She felt slow pressure put on her heels as he worked his fingers up her feet to her aching toes.

“You seem on edge tonight. And pretty quiet too. Penny for ‘em…” he said softly. “Or do I know what you’ve been thinking about?”

Draupadi smiled softly. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I’m thinking and I’ll tell you if you’re correct?”

“Alright,” Karna said, taking a deep breath. Then all of a sudden, in a rush the words tumbled out of his mouth: “I think the condom pack has you worried that I’m so hungry for sex that I’ve been impatiently hopping from one foot to the other till you’re ready, and you’re more worried that I’ll sleep with someone else just to get it out of my system. Well. I haven’t. And I can wait. And I don’t think I could ever do that to you, I love you too much you know? How did that even-- how could you even think that Draupadi-- ”

Draupadi’s hand covered his mouth and her hazel eyes glittered. “How _much_ you talk na? And all nonsense.”

Unbeknownst to Draupadi, Karna had been edgy all evening as well. He had noticed that she reacted differently to his touch, he had observed the telephone-box red of her cheeks, and he had felt her heart beat loud and fast.  
He knew what she wanted, and he matched his own desire with hers. Even now, he was fully aware that with Draupadi’s hand covered over his mouth he looked the epitome of stupidity; but he couldn’t wrench his attention away from her long enough to remove her hand from his mouth. He could do nothing but notice the way her hair fell in waves over each other. Each wave rose and ebbed with the tide that was the wind. In the midst of this deceptively calm ocean shone two beacons of light, fringed by lashes that put hand fans to shame.  
 _Ah, Draupadi of the feathery lashes and God_ , he gulped. _Draupadi of the kohl rimmed eyes._ Her eyes had been previously bordered with a delicate line of kohl that had now smudged. Could there _be_ anything sexier? How many times hadn’t the average Hindi music listener heard aankhon mein kaajal in some form or the other? Yet it spiked his blood everytime he saw it on her.

Involuntarily he drew in a sharp, shaking breath. 

Draupadi’s hand moved from his mouth to cup his face. She smiled in that full, but closed manner of hers: where her lips widened fully, yet turned down at the corners as if she were keeping the most alluring secret. She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his, and ran the tip of her nose against his slightly too large nose.

“Karna,” she breathed softly.

He got up from the bed faster than an anaar shoots up into the Diwali night. 

“COFFEE? YES? I THINK SO,” he said maniacally, disengaging himself from her confused gaze.

And Draupadi was left looking exceedingly foolish with one hand extended into the air and head drawn forward in an awkward position.

_Hain? What had just happened?_

Blinking at the sudden turn of events, and abrupt shift in mood, she shook her head. _What rubbish?!_ , she thought to herself, seething from her teeth to her toes.  
“Relax, relax Draupadi. Nervous hai bechara. It’s all good, it’s all good!” She got up and smoothed down her dress. “Now where’s that coward?”

\--------------------

Padding softly against the carpeted floor, she made her way to the kitchen, where her boyfriend was currently clutching the edges of the kitchen counter in terror.

He looked up to see her lips pursed in quiet amusement. The manic look made a comeback. “You’re here. GOOD. You get the milk, I’ll get the coffee powder,” he said, his tone high pitched. 

Draupadi just stood there for a moment with narrowed eyes, watching Karna spritz around the kitchen like an energizer bunny.

“Karna?” she called. 

“Hmmm?” he said, head poked in an under-counter cupboard. “Nope, I haven’t heard from the family in a week now. I should call don’t you think?” He emerged with two big ceramic mugs. “Also, the account for Goldman Sachs is going very well Draupadi, very well indeed. Did I tell you Tim was fired? Deserved it, kaamchor kahin ka. And-- ”

He stopped abruptly, looking at her like a lost puppy, almost as if to say _I’ve run out crap excuses_.

Draupadi smiled fondly. “I’ll get the milk,” she nodded, and proceeded to do just that.

Funnily enough, she wasn’t that nervous anymore. At least compared to her phissadi boyfriend, she wasn't. Her hand reached for the can of milk, and brushed his, just as he reached for the coffee powder. She slowly turned around to see him freeze, much like a Hindi serial’s Sati-Savitri heroine.

Karna snatched the milk can from her and poured some into each of the two mugs he had set out.

Slowly closing the refrigerator door behind her, she smiled her most comforting smile at him. She embraced her Karna in the low light of the kitchen, finding a balm to what little nerves she had, in him. He had always been her solace for absolutely any tiresome, troublesome situation. He hesitantly rubbed her back, his hand dipping low. She closed her eyes and breathed him in. The seemingly magical moment melted for a second when Karna said, “I thought your feet were hurting?”

She glared at him. “You remember when that senior associate spoke to you about speaking at the opportune time? This isn’t it.”

Karna’s mouth opened, then closed. “Oh.”

He closed his eyes in embarrassment, smiling cringingly. Then pulling her close with one arm, he looked into her eyes, searching for the last sign of hesitence. But she wasn’t made of nothing; her gaze mirrored his, the fire of her passion ringed around her eyes. 

_So that will be that._

The inches between their lips closed as they leaned in. They were soft at first, still testing waters, when she sighed. Draupadi broke the kiss and looked at him, her hands framing his face. Karna’s mouth stretched into his lopsided grin and Draupadi giggled.

“This is fun,” she said.

“Yes it is,” he agreed, and his smiling lips captured hers again. Draupadi’s hand roamed over his back and wound itself into his hair. His fingers clutching her waist, Karna leaned forward and deepened the kiss. Her hands snuck under his ratty t shirt, bare fingers tracing the contours of his spine. Karna’s back curved along her hands as they rose to hook on his shoulders, raising his t-shirt along. Lifting his head, he took it off, stretching it over his arms, causing Draupadi’s eyes to widen like gulab jamoons. His head emerged, grinning like a loon, hair a ruffled mass of black.

“What?” he asked abashedly.

Draupadi giggled again. _This is probably the cutest thing ever! Hotter than freshly outta the oven chocolate cake. Just waiting to be bitten._

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her eyes dancing with the mischievousness of a child with a particularly naughty plan. “This is so _so_ not fair.” 

Raising his eyebrows in wonderment at the suggested unfairness, and smirking at her obvious phirni-knees state, Karna’s hands reached for her thighs, his deft fingers slipping underneath the folds of her dress to grasp her hip bones.

Gasping sharply, she allowed him to lift her onto the table. Sitting at the edge of it she grasped his head with fingertips of fire, kissing him anew. Karna held her so close that she felt his limbs melding into hers. He kissed her eyebrows, her cheekbones and gently pushed her head back so he could work down her throat.

Draupadi’s hands tightened in his hair as she felt his teeth graze at her collarbones. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist as she arched back, and his lips peppered kisses along the incline of her neck as the strap of her dress slipped down, exposing her shoulder. She dragged his face up and met his lips with hers, biting down on his lower lip till he parted them and the kiss deepened, intensified. Her hair had become undone spilled down her back, a forest of black and deep blue Karna’s hands were now lost in.

She broke the kiss to breathe in heavily, but his mouth roamed down her throat to her chest, biting hickeys that would be purple by morning. Her breathy squeal drew him up. Her eyes, darker than ever before, reflected them the same restless passion that was churning in him. Draupadi’s face split into a smile as he helped raise her dress up and over her head, and it joined his T-shirt on the floor.

“My God,” Karna whispered, “Which Goddess incarnate are you?”

Draupadi raised an eyebrow as she pulled the string of his pajamas. “You tell me.”

“Well,” he said, his hand going back to undo the clasp of her bra, “Let’s find out, shall we?”

And with that, he cleared the kitchen counter with the sweep of an arm to push her back onto it. Except, the things on the table were quite heavy and empty and they clattered and crashed to the ground in the most unromantic, dispassionate manner possible.  
He covered his eyes with his hands. Draupadi started, her hand going to her chest.

“Holy Merlin…”

“I…” he trailed off, trying to make up for his weird, quite mental self.

“You. Are still hot,” she said, “Come here.” She laughed, kissing him again.

Karna slowly pushed her back on the counter, placing tiny butterfly kisses from her neck to her navel. Sinking his thumbs between her skin and the silk of her panties, he traced dull circles from the sides of her hips to her core, and very slowly slipped his fingers in.

Draupadi’s breath caught and her head fell back with abandon. She brought it forward when his fingers started to move within her. Lips slightly parted, her breath came in gasps as her fingers clutched onto his shoulders. He looked piercingly at her as if gauging her reaction with utmost interest.  
The moment his thumb hit a particularly sensitive spot, she moaned softly, deep from her throat.

Karna smiled triumphantly, and traced his free hand up her body, feeling all the curves that made her, finally resting at her neck to pull her closer for another lip conference.  
Kissing him back with fervour, she pushed the small of her back against him. Draupadi had never imagined that she would be this much at ease, this much in control of herself, but at the same time she wondered how she had ever doubted it. Sometimes it seemed that Karna was more a part of her than herself.

“Karna,” she breathed, running her fingers over the smooth planes of his back. So _much_ hotness! Bending her neck to meet his shoulder, she sucked at the skin deliberately, using her teeth when his breath hitched. She raised her head to look at her handiwork and found a horizontal, oval line of red.

“Look!” she squealed. “My first hickey!”

He smirked and cuffed her head.

“Dork,” he said, “Watch me.” He didn’t break eye-contact with her as his teeth bit the soft flesh of her breast and her eyes widened. She could feel him smirk against her skin as he did the exact same thing she had. Except he didn’t stop at one and squeal like her. He painted a trajectory of tiny little hickeys in a slash down her abdomen.  
He went back to where his fingers had been a few minutes ago, using his tongue this time. 

Needless to say, Karna had her gasping like an asthma patient in no time.

“That’s how it’s done, madam!” he grinned. 

Draupadi laughed, tossing her hair and leaning back to rest on her elbows. Karna looked up in wonder as peals of her carefree laughter sprayed light into the dim kitchen. He smiled widely, because he knew that this was what he wanted to wake up to each morning, and hear last every night.

Spreading her legs wider, he readied himself to enter her. But then-- 

“Ah bloody hell!” he expostulated, just remembering.

“Excuse me?” Draupadi asked affronted. Then, shaking her head with an I’m-so-done-with-this-man expression, reached for the Durex pack that she had brought in earlier. Handing it out to him, she snorted, “ _You’re_ the dork. I, on the other hand, am the smart one!”

Karna chuckled. “And that is precisely why I wouldn’t choose anyone else to do this with,” he said in a tone that Draupadi had never heard him use before. She knew that he didn’t mean that someone else would have tricked him into _not_ using protection (which would turn out into a rather disgusting drama of: “Main tumhaare honewale bacche ki Ma hoon!”). It was a tone that was truthful, one that meant he trusted her with himself at his most vulnerable, and that’s why she had the privilege of sharing his bed, or, er, his kitchen-top. 

Draupadi had only one requirement from him, all their lives: to be the truth and nothing but the plain truth.

She closed her eyes as she felt him enter her and when she opened them, tiny diamonds of teardrops had gathered at their corners.

“And I,” she said, “I trust you too.” 

Karna’s hand cupped her face. “I know. This wouldn’t be me if you didn’t,” he said simply.

And then, quite characteristically, she commanded, “ _Move!_ ”

He did, each movement intensifying the storm that was gathering inside her, every thrust a stamp of love, every touch a reminder that this was real, this was them, they were one. She became like flourine, responsive to the tiniest sensations. Tension built inside her and he slowed just as it reached a crescendo. In a burst of numbed yet sensitized explosion, she felt herself stiffen and arch off the hard surface, her nails digging into his shoulder blades and raking down his back, leaving smarting red lines. A throaty growl rumbled from deep in his throat as her legs tightened around his hips, and a minute later, his hands tightened on her waist and she knew that he’d peaked too.

They remained like that, holding each other.

“I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me,” he complained exhaustedly.

“Next time,” she promised, kissing his nose.

\--------------------

Duryodhan walked into the kitchen next morning, sleepy and looking for a pre-bath snack. He’d been too tired last night to do anything other than stumble into the flat and straight to his room. He’d nearly dozed off while changing. He was still hungover.

The sight of the kitchen, however, was enough to wake him up properly. He walked in to find various knives, a salt shaker amidst its contents, the previous day’s newspaper, and -- gasp-- _the psyllium husk jar_ on the floor.

“What in the name of all that is holy happened here?!” he whispered, transfixed. “Karna?! Were we robbed?!” he asked, screaming from the kitchen.

But Karna had already left for work, and dropped Draupadi at her place on the way. 

In a decidedly foul mood, Duryodhan marched up to the refrigerator, and flung it open. And nearly had a cardiac arrest.

A very tempting looking cake with a not-so-tempting message was resting on the middle shelf. The frosting read, in blue, bold letters: “Duryo, sorry we fucked in your kitchen!”

He blinked and closed the refrigerator, running to get his phone. He had some urgent talking to do with his flatmate. 

Karna picked up on the first ring. “Yeah, walking into a meeting so make it fast!”

“ _You turned out to be fast saale!_ ” Duryodhan stage-whispered.

“What?”

“What is that cake doing in the fridge, hmm?”

He could read Karna’s silence at the end of the line.

“In the kitchen? Kuch toh sharam kar! I _eat_ there!” he sighed.

“Shut up! You drink your milk while you’re on the pot!” Karna said defensively.

“Yeah, but I don’t have sex in the kitchen! Besides, be sure to buy a jar on your way back. You broke mine!”

Karna cleared his throat. Or choked. It was hard to tell. “I’ll talk to you later. Meeting. Client waiting.”

“Get home, kameene, phir baat karte hain,” he said, laughing and hanging up.

He then walked back to his room to shower, deciding the best way to cut that cake. Breakfast that day would be full of frosting and calories. Duryodhan didn’t give a damn.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction, inspired from:  
> 
> 
> An AU discussed with [phandomoftheowl](http://phandomoftheowl.tumblr.com/) on tumblr and AO3, a long while back. Also, yes we're quite fond of hickeys.
> 
> Our tumblrs: [annsgopal94](http://annsgopal94.tumblr.com/)||[Sairandhri](http://nirantar.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Glossary:
> 
>   * izzat: modesty, respect
>   * dramebaaz: someone who is unnecessarily dramatic, melodramatic
>   * hey bhagwaan: oh God
>   * sau rupai chadaoongi: I will offer hundred rupees
>   * sab khairiyat hai na?: everything is alright?
>   * upar wale kamre mein?: in the topmost room?
>   * kya haalat bana di hai apni: what condition you have made of yourself
>   * tharki: 
>   * anaar: Roman candle
>   * nervous hai bechara: poor thing, he's nervous
>   * kaamchor kahin ka: someone who escapes work
>   * phissadi: scared
>   * gulab jamoon: round Indian sweets (like [here](http://food.sulekha.com/dishimages/433.jpg))
>   * phirni: pudding-like Indian sweet made of rice, milk, sugar, saffron
>   * main tumhaare honewale bacche ki Ma hoon: I am the mother of your unborn child
>   * saale:
>   * kuch toh sharam kar: feel at least a bit ashamed
>   * kameene: someone who is dishonest
>   * phir baat karte hain: then we'll talk
> 



End file.
